Category Archives: desire

He was older than me, and his smile was both experienced and knowing. I sat next to him at the meeting and found excuses to touch him. I slipped back his cuff to look at his watch. I leaned in close and told him how intoxicating his scent was.

He wore no ring, but that really doesn’t mean as much anymore. All I knew was that I wanted him either way.

I considered putting my hand on his thigh, but didn’t have the nerve. It wasn’t the right time or place.

He was a runner and had the lean hard body to show for it. I longed to feel it pressed up against mine. I wanted to feel his his caressing my naked breasts and to feel his erection straining to escape the confines of his proper suit. I ached to feel his bulging cock slipping back and forth, teasing my moistening pussy.

I could feel the throbbing in my cunt as I glanced sedately at his profile. Each look he threw my way was simultaneously shocking and arousing. As if he had placed his fingers and tongue inside of me while sitting appropriately a few feet away.

I struggled to pay attention to the meeting, but it was a losing battle. One that I wasn’t convinced I really wanted to win anyway. Because each time he glanced at me, it sent a new jolt between my legs, and resulted in increasing wetness and distraction. Even now, I can feel my temperature rising, and my clit throbbing at the thought of him.

I was certain that everyone must have been able to see what was going on just barely beneath my distracted smile. Yet the meeting carried on. And on. I approached him after the meeting. Any excuse to keep him in my sight for just a few more minutes. He seemed to enjoy the conversation, but it was a fairly platonic chat.

It seemed he would only take the flirting so far in person, but via text I could say whatever I liked. Surely a married man wouldn’t engage in text conversations with a young girl for tow hours, would he? I hadn’t pushed my luck too far yet though. Only to offer to buy him a drink “sometime” and to tell him that he was both adorable, and that his presence at these meetings was absolutely imperative to my well-being.

I’d only managed to manipulate him to one social, yet committee-related outing to date. I had fussed over the length of my skirt, so he quite blatantly checked out my ass, assured me it was fine, then insisted on buying me a drink.

I teasingly asked if he minded if I had a crush on him, and he responded that it sounded hot. Oh if he only knew what was going through my head….

Like how I wanted to feel his hands all over me. For some reason he brought out the most exhibitionist fantasies in me. I wanted to pull him into a dark corner of a crowded room, undo his pants, kneel down and suck on him. I wanted him to put his hand up my skirt, pull down my panties and finger my clit. I wanted him to bring me to orgasm right there where anyone close enough could see exactly what was happening.

But for the time being, I merely wished him a good night, went home and brought out my vibrator…

I am a sweet girl. Sometimes to the point of giving one a toothache. And I’m generally kind, considerate and understanding. What do all of these lovely adjectives result in? Everyone else getting what they want, and the Duchess simply accepting.

So tonight, I would like to put it out there to the universe. I want to say exactly what I want. Perhaps this will give me the power and confidence to expect it, and take it.

I have a date with Bunny Ears on Saturday. I want him to greet me at the door in scarcely more than a towel. I want him to feel his impatience as I take off my jacket and shoes. I want him to pin me against the wall, undo my jeans and slide his fingers into my pussy. I want to feel his teeth on my earlobes and his tongue running down my neck. I want him to pull down my panties pull my leg up over his hip and thrust his cock into me hard and deep. I want it fast and rough and impatient.

Then we can move to the bedroom….

I want a partner who shows me that he wants me with every look, touch and word. I want to know that I can have him at any time. I want a man who will wake me up in the middle of the night with his tongue on my clit. I want a man who will tie me up and blindfold me and make me scream in lust and beg for more. I want a man who is willing to lick chocolate off my breasts and honey off my cunt. I want a man who can talk dirty to me without sounding ridiculous. I want someone who will come to a lingerie store with me, make me model everything, fuck me in the change room and pick up the bill.

Is that all? Not even remotely…but it might be enough to ask for tonight.

So obviously when I signed up for this adventure, it was because I wanted sex. Missed sex. Needed sex.

But at the same time, I can say that the longer you go without it, the more zen you get about it. (Well, I do anyways).

I can look at sex more distantly, and analyze people’s reactions to it. What drives people to seek it out? What is it about sex that makes people behave the way they do? I could write essays about it. All in a completely unemotional way.

But now? Yeah, now I’ve tasted it again. Now I’m reminded about how awesome it is. I remember what it’s like to have a man’s tongue between my legs. To feel his hard body pressing against mine. To have my breath suddenly catch as he puts his hands or his mouth somewhere unexpected.

And now? He’s all I’m thinking about. Well not him exactly. The idea of him. I want his lips. His hands. His cock. I want them pressed up again me. I want to feel his desire and impatience. I want to be an object. I want to be craved and used.

I’m wishing I didn’t leave him so early yesterday. I’m wishing I’d waited long enough to have him take me again.

And then there’s the insecurity. Not of being liked. But of being wanted. Will he want me again? Will he take me again? I don’t want romance. I don’t want respect. I want him to think about me when he’s touching himself at night. I want him to be distracted by the thought of me when he has an errant sexual thought.